


At the Rink

by Velvedere



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal, Exhibitionism, Languages and Linguistics, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Public Sex, Smut, dominant yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvedere/pseuds/Velvedere
Summary: There are showers in the locker room at the local skating rink...





	

Victor whined, pushing his hips back in a show of petulance when Yuri stopped moving his hands.

“Yuriiii…” He pouted, Yuri’s name high and nasal as he let it curl through his mouth like a savored taste, a barely-there brush over the R the way he’d learned to say it from Yuri himself. “More?”

It was half a request, half a plead. Cold rushed in over his skin where Yuri had warmed it only a moment ago, the air’s empty thinness making his absence all the more keenly felt. Victor shivered, twisting to look back over his shoulder. He kept his eyes half-lidded, peeking out through the damp fall of his hair the way he knew Yuri liked.

But Yuri wasn’t looking at him.

“Shh!” he hissed, tight as Yuri too had swiveled around, eyes squinting at the thin plastic curtain that sectioned off the edge of the shower stall.

It wasn’t much to conceal them from the outside world: the public skating rink had as moderate funding as one could expect, and the curtains covering the open sides of the shower stalls were, at best, several years old. The faded, crinkling plastic was tinted in blue and covered in a wavy pattern to make it opaque, but its length didn’t quite reach all the way down to the floor tiles.

A courtesy feature. Anyone outside who spotted feet below the curtain line would know the stall was occupied. And anyone who cared enough to look would notice the two sets of feet in the stall that belonged to Victor and Yuri.

The stalls were only meant for one.

But that was the point, wasn’t it?

They squished together, back to chest, with just enough blast of water from the showerhead to halfway disguise what they were up to.

Not that Victor minded. It had been Yuri’s idea…as much as shoving the two of them into the stall on an absolute whim after Victor had been shamelessly flirting and showing off out on the ice for over an hour amounted to an idea. But that was Yuri’s form of bravery: to hurl himself headlong on an impulse, wherever the consequences may lead.

Victor’s only complaint was when Yuri stopped paying attention to him.

“Yuriiiii,” he whined a little louder, abruptly silenced when Yuri clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Someone’s coming,” Yuri rasped, pushing Victor back under the spray.

Victor blinked, ducking his head. Comprehension eluded him as to why passerbys should come as a surprise to his beloved fiancé. It was a public washroom. Of course there would be other people coming through.

But he let Yuri be still, humoring him, as the sound of footsteps and shuffling and voices issued beyond the curtain. Several of them moved by the shower stalls – the sounds of other showerheads snap-hissed as they turned on – and Yuri moved his free hand, pushing the curtain a little more closed with the tips of two fingers.

Victor smiled behind the hand over his mouth. It didn’t escape his notice how Yuri’s breathing came faster as he watched the curtain. More shallow. The way his heartbeat pulsed in the tips of his fingers. The particular proof of his excitement was something long and hard nestled in the cleft of Victor’s backside, and Victor shifted his hips again just to hear Yuri’s breath catch.

He slid his tongue out against Yuri’s fingers, trailing along the indentations between digits, flicking over the smooth texture of a single gold ring.

Yuri made a breathless squawk, and turned his attention with renewed vehemence back to him.

There. Now they were back on track.

Victor braced his hands on the shower wall, his feet spread apart and weight leaning forward while Yuri leaned in against him from behind. Yuri’s hands were everywhere, pressing first over his lips, fingers parting at the prod of Victor’s seeking tongue. They pushed into his mouth, earning a grunt from Victor’s depths as he licked and sucked, closed his eyes against the feel of Yuri’s other hand where it wandered lower. Pressed small circles into his lower back. Teased over the bone of his hip – that one soft place just above, where he knew Victor was sensitive – and then spread his fingers across the yielding quiver of his lower belly. Warmth curled through Victor’s gut and he felt the trickle of water over Yuri’s hand as he touched him, scratching his nails through the patch of wiry, silver hair just above his erection.

Victor was hard. He throbbed. But Yuri would only touch him there in brief, fleeting caresses.

“Nhhnn… _ahh_ …Yuri…”

Yuri’s kiss landed on his shoulder. Traced his shoulderblade sharp enough to cut. He licked at trails of water off Victor’s back and dragged his tongue slowly up the dip of his spine, counting each knob. Cherishing them. Victor whined and squirmed and pushed his hips back against him in search for more contact. Sometimes he was rewarded with a hard breath on his shoulder and a grinding rock of Yuri against him, a growl close to his ear, and in those moments Victor’s body lit up like floodlights.

He lived for those tiny lapses in Yuri’s otherwise iron stamina. The breaks in his willful control. Those things no one else was ever blessed enough to see.

_“Yuri…!”_

Victor took one hand off the wall. He pressed it over Yuri’s, linking their fingers, the tiniest metallic clink of their rings coming into contact almost entirely drowned out by the falling splash of water.

He pushed Yuri’s hand down insistently between his legs, straining where he wanted him.

“…more…”

Yuri stiffened his arm.

He reversed their holds, took Victor’s wrist, and planted his hand back against the wall.

“Keep your hands here,” came the whispered voice close to Victor’s ear, sending an electric tingle down his side. “And keep quiet.”

Victor whined – quietly, biting his lip – but did as he was told. His head dropped between his shoulders, lips pressed tightly together as he breathed hard through his nose, wanting and whining and shivering with the effort of holding himself still, when all he wanted to do was spin around and shove Yuri up against the wall. Feel Yuri’s legs around his waist and hear his cries reach to the ceiling.

But he would be good.

Normally his impulse would be to do the opposite of what was expected, and the urge tugged at him even now, so strongly, but…

But it was Yuri. He wanted to do this just for him. No one else.

Victor’s thoughts promptly abandoned him and all else went blank as Yuri suddenly dropped down to his knees, spread his cheeks, and buried his face in Victor’s ass. Victor barely caught his gasp before it turned into a full-on yelp and slapped one hand over his mouth, bowed forward with his head to the wall. He closed his eyes and shook and curled forward onto the balls of his feet as Yuri’s tongue poked and prodded at his tight hole, circled it experimentally, then slid inside, bold and unhesitant. His hands kept Victor stretched so he could reach and Victor felt the tightness pull all the way down his perineum and to his sac, where he throbbed all the more.

Someday, perhaps, Yuri would cease to surprise him with these sorts of things.

He hoped that day would be long in coming.

Victor clamped down tight on his insides, trying not to think too hard about the concept of ‘coming.’ It was different in Russian, where verb forms tended to follow more the idea of ‘finishing,’ and in Japanese it was the opposite. They would ‘go’ instead of ‘come.’

So much he and Yuri had learned from each other.

More than one night in bed had been spent tangled together and giggling over the differences between their native languages and the one they shared, in between kisses and gasping revelations of meaning.

None of that really helped in dousing the need Yuri stoked inside him, or the way Victor bent himself and pushed back into Yuri’s licks with a shameless lack of restraint. He panted between his fingers and felt the sting of the water hit his back, shielding Yuri from the onslaught.

As if that wasn’t enough, Yuri brought his hands into play, cupping and fondling Victor’s sac while he licked, then reaching around to stroke him in front. His hands found their way by feel where they couldn’t see, knowing Victor’s body.

“Yuri!” Victor whimpered, sticking with English. What small part of his brain remained rational thought it would be less likely to be eavesdropped upon. He rocked into Yuri’s hand, grinding between his teeth. “… _Yuri_ …I need to come…!”

“No,” said Yuri, muffled and decisive, stroking. Neither speeding nor giving the greater pressure Victor sought. Victor could feel the vibration of Yuri’s words on his skin.

_“Please—”_

“No.”

Yuri pulled back, licking his lips.

His hand stopped.

Victor practically sobbed and sagged where he held himself, sensitive and aching. A mewling mess.

“You didn’t do what I told you.”

Victor tried to bend lower and push his hips back in urging invitation for Yuri to continue, but Yuri stood up. He closed the space between them again and put his arms around Victor, brushing wet hair from his face. His chin came to rest over Victor’s shoulder – endearingly, that Victor knew he had to stand on his toes to do it – and he whispered:

“Turn around.”

Victor managed it with an effort – coordination was difficult – and came to rest again against the slick tile wall, panting for breath. His head tipped down and to one side and he blinked against the spray, lifting one arm to hug across himself. He shuddered.

Yuri looked at him. His dark eyes were even darker in the dingy light, the look behind them one of intensity as his gaze roved slowly over Victor, the way a starving man might eye his next meal.

It made Victor shiver again. Heat wafted off his body in waves, and his insides felt so empty. Begging to be filled.

Yuri reached up, tilting the showerhead to a different angle so that it cascaded behind them, hitting the plastic shower curtain. The result was more noise to cover their antics, and room enough beneath that he could step in closer, sliding against Victor to claim his lips in a kiss free of the pounding water spray. Only a cool mist landed on their skin.

“Victor,” he said, with a low growl of possessiveness that shot straight to Victor’s groin. He whimpered, and raised his arms up tentatively to put around Yuri’s shoulders, touching him with the hesitant reverence one might reserve for something sacred.

Yuri allowed it, curling his hold around him as well.

Arms closed and pressed and locked in embrace. Victor’s eyes fluttered closed as they kissed, soft and all too willing to part for Yuri’s tongue.

It was gentle. Almost chaste. A romantic kiss, despite where Yuri’s mouth had been only a moment ago.

Victor caught himself wishing they would be discovered. Wanting for someone – maybe even Yurio – to rip back the curtain and demand to know just what they thought they were doing.

He knew what would happen. Yuri would cast a look over his shoulder – one of challenging, daring – and then keep right on with whatever action they were currently performing, perhaps even with a greater enthusiasm.

 _He’s mine now,_ his touch would say. His owning kiss. The possessive bite into Victor’s shoulder. _Look all you want. You can’t have him._

Having an audience to watch his claiming of Victor would only deepen his passion. Victor had seen that many times on the ice before, in between the crowds and the spotlights and the announcers and roaring applause.

Although those times they had both been a bit more…clothed.

Yuri broke the kiss, drawing back just enough to meet Victor’s eyes. He raised one hand to stroke his cheek.

“You looked shy,” he said, a smile tugging up one side of his mouth. It softened the severity of his face. “Just now.”

“Did I?”

Yuri nodded. He bent his head in to kiss Victor’s neck. Nuzzle up beneath the line of his jaw.

Victor tipped back his head, all of him receptive and open and accommodating.

“It’s hard to imagine you being shy about anything.”

“Such is your power, Katsuki Yuri.”

They embraced again, arms locking around shoulders. Yuri pushed his knee between Victor’s thighs. They parted like water. Victor braced his weight between the wall and Yuri’s leg and held on for dear life as Yuri at last stroked him the way he wanted: steady, solid pumps of his cock in the palm of Yuri’s hand, with Yuri’s breath on his collar and brow to his neck, scraping the occasional bite of teeth.

Victor wrapped his hand around Yuri’s and they moved together, flexing his hips up into each stroke. Panting Yuri’s name like a mantra. Chasing that promise of release Victor could see blooming so close on the horizon.

“Yuriii,” he whined.

“Not yet.” Yuri growled against his throat.

“Yuri…!”

“Not yet.”

“Please…I need to…”

“Victor—!”

Victor came at last with Yuri’s whispered permission in his ear, swallowing up Victor’s cry with a kiss and hand pressed to the back of his head, crushing him close. Feeling his moans reverberate deep into his chest when they couldn’t make it past Yuri’s lips. His eyes squeezed shut tight but the secure feel of Yuri’s hand stayed around his cock, milking and squeezing him through his climax until he was spent, when the ricochet snap and release of nerve endings all throughout his body finally faded and ebbed, leaving him limp. Flushed red and out of breath and tears in his eyes as he sagged back against the wall and looked upon Yuri with such love. Such relief and gratefulness.

Yuri kissed him one more time, Victor’s lips red, oversensitive, then touched their brows together as he met his eyes, a strength and demand behind them that would never allow Victor to look away. Even if he’d wanted to.

“Don’t take your eyes off me.”

The words were unnecessary, but Victor never tired of hearing them. He nodded, a barely-there bob of his head that even small as it was sent jolts along his overstimulated nerves.

He watched, eyed half-lidded, quiet and aware of the intimacy between them as Yuri braced his weight on one hand just over Victor’s shoulder, and took hold of himself in the other.

He stroked himself to climax, his face downcast in concentration except in those moments when his brow would furrow. When he looked up. Red all the way to his chest when he saw Victor’s eyes still upon him, still watching, still admiring and loving and accepting of his seed when Yuri spilled onto his belly.

He fell against him, gasping, hands squeezing at his shoulders.

Victor held him and kissed his wet hair, and together they entwined until the shivers stopped. Until the breaths calmed. Until they could stand on their own two feet again. Even then, the touches lingered. Eyes met and they smiled, giggling, sheepish again and as bumbling as boys who had never been trained to be champion figure skaters. Such was the effect they had on each other.

Eventually, they showered, and still cast knowing, furtive glances to one another even after they’d dressed and headed out, back into the chilly air of outside and in the direction of home.

Home together.


End file.
